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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22402192">Casually infiltrating Kosei High</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cecil_Bearbiter/pseuds/Cecil_Bearbiter'>Cecil_Bearbiter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Persona 5, Persona Series</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Awkward Crush, Crush, F/M, Fluff, Futaba infiltrates Kosei High, Gen, Yusuke would definitely make mini sculptures of their personas, fluffy like Haru's hair, unfiltered Yutaba, yutaba - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 11:00:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,204</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22402192</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cecil_Bearbiter/pseuds/Cecil_Bearbiter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A one-shot in which Futaba decides to visit Kosei high on a whim.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kitagawa Yusuke &amp; Sakura Futaba, Kitagawa Yusuke &amp; Togo Hifumi, Kitagawa Yusuke/Sakura Futaba</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>96</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Casually infiltrating Kosei High</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The objective was ‘go out, buy the new game, then go home’. But with Kosei High being so close along her route that it’s practically blocking her path, shambling towards the campus felt warranted. Obligatory, even. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Granted, she had to purposefully get off the train bound for Yongen at a different station to end up in this situation…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The short walk from the station to the school was a blur of internally fussing over ‘what ifs’ and ‘what the fudge am I even doing’.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had to stop right at the - albeit deserted - gates; she looked nothing like a Kosei student, uniform-wise; simply waltzing in would probably raise some concern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My sneak skill isn’t high enough.” Futaba muttered to herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She half-considered simply texting their team’s bufudyne wielder. Maybe he’s here somewhere? Maybe he’ll show her around?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah right.” She muttered again to herself, shoving her phone back into her pocket. “He’s probably busy painting and whatnot--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who is?” Asked a voice approaching from behind the young redhead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Startled out of her stupor, Futaba jumped.. And froze... And the Venus of Shogi was quick to notice the redhead’s discomfort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry for startling you!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“N-no, it’s fine,” Futaba managed to blurt out, turning to regard the older girl, “I was antsy all day to start with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still,” Hifumi offered the redhead a sympathetic smile, “I apologize. At least allow me to assist you; were you heading to the admissions office?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Me? Enroll as an art student? In Kosei? Painting with real, actual paint?? ahahA-’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! No, no no no- I’m just looking for someone. You might know him.” Futaba might’ve refuted a little too quickly...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I might.” Hifumi shrugged. “What’s his name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Inari.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“YUSUKE!” Futaba promptly amended when realization finally dawned on her - startling Hifumi in return. “I m-meant Yusuke! K-kitagawa. Sorry! Sorrysorry.. </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorryyyy</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm. Tall, ear-length hair, lanky? Really talented painter?” Hifumi described a friend in mind, though she was somewhat amused by the young redhead’s display thus far.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Said redhead nodded. Flustered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hifumi chuckled. “Perpetually hungry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Futaba nodded fiercely before huffing out the rest of her embarrassment. “Know him then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Indeed I do,” Hifumi chuckled again. “We eat lunch together sometimes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? Well that’s good. The others tend to fuss over his eating habits a lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>..Which surprised Hifumi. In a good way, that is. It was at least reassuring to know that the former pupil of Madarame has a presumably vibrant social life - or a life in general - outside of his obsession for art.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You must be good friends with him then.” Hifumi remarked fondly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hifumi knew Yusuke didn’t have many friends in Kosei to begin with. Theirs was a mutual acquaintanceship at best. She recalled the many instances wherein she caught a glimpse of the same redheaded girl riddling the sketchpads of Yusuke Kitagawa, in various natural poses that suggested he’s never asked her to pose for him; if they were photos, they’d be stolen shots.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But with a new lease in her professional life as a shogi player, Hifumi’s brighter outlook on life and stellar mood led to her prompting a conversation with the artist in question whom she found him one day snacking on some animal crackers at the school’s courtyard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yusuke was.. Surprisingly forthright; headstrong, earnest, jovial; traits Hifumi hadn’t quite expected from one who seemed to exude a cold, frigid, inhospitable aura whenever inspiration took him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On her part, though, Yusuke hadn’t expected the famed Venus of Shogi to be so.. Intense.. Especially when they decided to play a round of shogi after she expressed her desire to gauge his skill in the game. Or lack thereof.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess you can say that.” Futaba tossed the paper bag containing her new game to her other hand and offered the now free right hand for Hifumi to shake. Then she stated with a hint of quiet pride in her voice, “Futaba Sakura. Nice to meet you...?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hifumi Togo.” The Venus of Shogi stated, shaking the younger girl’s hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Sakura-chan.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hifumi did eventually agree to take Futaba to wherever she last saw Yusuke. And Futaba agreed to divulge her motives for visiting in the first place: invite her perpetually hungry teammate out for some ramen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In Futaba’s defense, her phone died helping her brave the long queue for that new game she’s been waiting for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, how do you know Inar-- I mean, Yusuke? Sorry. Force of habit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hifumi chuckled at the slip. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Was that truly her nickname for him?’</span>
  </em>
  <span> She wondered inwardly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Initially we were only vaguely aware of each other’s presence within campus. But lately, after, umm..” Hifumi stopped to first look around if anyone else was listening before continuing in a near whisper, “after my mother underwent a change of heart, I felt I owed my good fortune this chance at getting to know someone not quite new but not quite familiar either. It sort of mimicks how Ren-kun and I got to be friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Futaba’s ears perked up at the name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait. Hold up. Did you say ‘Ren’?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hifumi tensed at the realization.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yes..?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know Ren?! As in Ren Amamiya?? Uhh, dark-hair? Bespectacled, disheveled, perpetually corny?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hifumi raised an incredulous brow and a bemused smirk at that last bit but nodded nonetheless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. That’s him exactly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Futaba blinked a few times. Both of them were engulfed in awkward silence until a nervous snicker escaped Futaba.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“..You. Know him. Too?” Hifumi cautiously presumed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hehe. Yup! Small world, huh?” Says the redheaded navigator, much to Hifumi’s bewilderment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Venus of Shogi could only offer a small smile once her initial surprise subsided. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And in its place sat relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quite. I.. hadn’t really expected to meet another who is acquainted with Amamiya-kun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Same! You’re like one of those NPCs who give really juicy bits of lore if you choose the right dialogue options!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“..Thank you..?” Hifumi shrugged sheepishly. “What exactly is your relationship with Amamiya-kun, if I may ask?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re practically siblings!” Futaba enthused, “he’s like the brother I never had!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah. I’m glad for the both of you. When I first met Amamiya-kun, he seemed rather dejected. A bit troubled, lost, or forlorn, but at the same time there was an inquisitive nature to him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was at this point the two proceeded to walk, with Hifumi leading the way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like a curious little cat.” Futaba laughed. As did Hifumi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, kind of like a cat, I’ll admit.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Being a faux-sibling and all, if I’m to be blunt about this, I suppose you’re aware of his </span>
  <em>
    <span>occupation</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Hifumi cautiously inquired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Futaba’s thoughts grinded to a halt. Though her feet still threaded the marbled corridors of Kosei, her ears still absorbed every other sound, and her eyes kept watch of obstacles, she regarded the shogi player before her with covert scrutiny. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ren had a number of non-Thief confidants, that she was sure of. A good number of them he attest aids and supports the Phantom Thieves in their own way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not only am I aware,” Futaba cautiously admitted to this confidant of her faux-brother, “I’m actually one of them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘What.’</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Oh!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah, sorry, is that too much to take in?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘That’s what she said.’</span>
  </em>
  <span> A snickering voice at the back of Futaba’s head muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A bit, yes, but-- my apologies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I mean if Ren thought it was ok to tell you--” Futaba trailed off, unsure of how to properly word out that she trusted his judgement in a lot of things; in matters inside and outside of mementos; in how to gauge someone’s trustworthiness. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Where has Joker gone wrong before,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Futaba mused inwardly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He didn’t tell me, actually. I sort of just found out on my own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“..Eh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a bit convenient, don’t you think? My mother’s change of heart? Shortly after I tell this one person, this one particular individual, about my situation, my mother suddenly changed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s glaringly obvious.” Futaba admitted, teardropping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A bit. Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“. . . Let’s just forget this bit ever happened, yeah?” Futaba suggested sheepishly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hifumi nodded, giving the supposed Phantom Thief a sympathetic look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Agreed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So if you’re friends with Amamiya-kun, and with Kitagawa-kun, and you’re a.. You know... then by extension is Kitagawa-kun..?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“May I borrow your phone first, Togo-san? My phone’s dead and I need to message Makoto and Sojiro regarding my, uh, whereabouts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Desperate times call for desperate measure, Futaba supposed; she trusted the girl, somewhat, but that didn’t mean she’s not gonna hold the Venus of Shogi’s data hostage as collateral if Hifumi decides to join the dark side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um. Sure.” Hifumi promptly reached into her back to retrieve her phone and hand it over to the redhead - whom she was not aware is a talented hacker by her own right. Bugging a smartphone is child’s play.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Futaba really did send a few quick messages to her adoptive father and team mom. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘THIS IS FUTABAAAAA SAKURA! REPORTING! Gonna grab some ramen before heading home. Might be home late. Phone’s dead, too. Using a friend’s phone. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Handing the phone back, Futaba thanked the shogi player.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. To answer your question: yes. And he’s been a member for longer than I have.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see. Suppose that’s how the whole Madarame case began.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Mine was Medjed, if you recall that thing about a hacker calling out the Phantom Thieves.” Futaba felt her throat tighten at the bittersweet memories of those uneasy days; her mother, her tomb, her awakening and her unsung heroes. “Some other stuff happened that time, past the audience’s FOV. Really dark stuff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I remember all the headlines quite clearly.” Hifumi nodded slowly. “But I shan’t press.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>They arrived some time later at a rather unassuming door.. Double doors, to be exact. And they were </span>
  <b>
    <em>huge</em>
  </b>
  <b>. </b>
  <em>
    <span>Tall</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Taller than anyone she knows. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Even taller than Inari by, say, ..a meter? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And it was </span>
  <b>w i i i i i d e</b>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beside it - rather than above it, as with all the other normal-height doors they’ve passed by - was a plain white, porcelain plaque.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sculpting studio?” Futaba read the words chiseled onto the plaque incredulously. The all-caps helvetica font glared at her. “Inar-- UGH!” She groaned at her own habit-bound slip up, at which Hifumi chuckled again. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Y u s u k e</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Is in here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm. Has been since early this morning.” Hifumi checked her watch. “Though he did take a break at around noon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the heck is he doing in a-” Futaba glanced at the plaque again to confirm. ‘Sculpting Studio’. “-in a </span>
  <em>
    <span>sculpting </span>
  </em>
  <span>studio?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yusuke paints. Paints! As in on canvases with easels and tubes upon tubes of paint! AND HE DRAWS! With pencils and whatever!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hifumi watched, enthralled somewhat by what qualified as an existential rant by some redheaded Phantom Thief who had come to pick up her other Phantom Thief friend for what Hifumi interpreted as a ramen date.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was adorable, endearing, and all too amusing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And a little bit worrisome.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>sculpt</span>
  </em>
  <span>..” Futaba eventually finished. She was panting, for one thing, and it piqued Hifumi’s concern rather briefly before Futaba raised a hand and managed to rasp out, “I’m ok.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it’s any consolation,” </span>
  <em>
    <span>for lack of a better word, </span>
  </em>
  <span>“this is but Kitagawa-kun’s elective for this semester.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Elective?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm. And he’s taken strings once before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Strings? Like, knitting?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hifumi shook her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As in stringed instruments.” Hifumi smiled. Which grew when she saw the redhead girl’s eyes widen with awe. “Including but not limited to piano, guitar. etc.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Music.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hifumi nodded. Futaba perked up at the surge of new information about her bufudyne-wielding teammate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was in the same class. He played and mastered the violin and keyboard.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Futaba could’ve sworn she ‘stopped working’ for one lengthy moment there as her thoughts glossed over the insinuation that their team artist may or may not be a talented musician in his own right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Does Ren know about this? Does their team advisor? Maybe Morgana? Not that it the information was essential to their work as Phantom Thieves…. .. </span>
  <em>
    <span>was it?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shall we head in?” Hifumi suggested upon recalling their original objective, and when it became clear to her that she may have accidentally short-circuited her new redheaded friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Futaba promptly snapped back to attention and nodded though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hifumi knocked at the door thrice lightly, then pushed it open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kitagawa-kun?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hifumi took a peek inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The artist in question was at the far end of the room, hunched over something particularly colorful, with a small brush in hand and assorted bottles of paint on a tray with wheels beside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His back was facing the doorway, where two girls now stood surveying the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t seem to notice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now normally Hifumi would’ve just simply accepted that there are times the lonely artist would be too focused on his work to really register his name being called.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But mischief galloped through her thoughts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last several minutes or so spent conversing with a certain redheaded guest to Kosei High chiseled away the ‘prim and proper’-ness of her usual facade, and she felt especially mischievous after Futaba’s earlier rant and damning slip-ups.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Hifumi took the risk…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh Inaarriiii~” The Venus of Shogi cooed. The redhead behind her short-circuited once more. Though, sure enough, the artist before her visibly tensed at the nickname and he glanced behind him like a startled deer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hifumi took a mental note to apologize to Futaba after this was over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Futaba???” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A curious mix of surprise and incredulity laced his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! Er, um, n-not quite, Kitagawa-kun. Sorry.” Hifumi Togo flushed bright red at the intense gray eyes that now regarded her with a certain level of scrutiny. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Or was it curiosity?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“..Togo-san?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure what came over me-- I apologize.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yusuke made hummed inquisitively. He swiveled his seat so that he was sitting sideways rather than uncomfortably glancing over his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You called me ‘inari’.” He stated more than inquired, raising a brow. Because as far as he knew there’s only one person who actively referred to him by that name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I picked it up from her.” Hifumi stated sheepishly, standing aside so he had an unobstructed view of the doorway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Futaba reluctantly took that as her cue and slid into view, adopting a featherman pose at the doorway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Internally she was screaming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Yusuke Kitagawa was taken aback, he didn’t show.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hifumi did a mental facepalm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Through all of this, however, Futaba never once let go of the game she bought earlier that day, but she has already long since discarded any thoughts of new gameplay and new graphics.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Futaba marched into the room with slow, even steps, keeping her hands behind her back, gripping her new game tightly, gawking at the absurd assortment of sculptures and figurines that littered the tables.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Ooooooh’s and ‘Aaaaah’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>were had.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They thanked Hifumi for her help and the Venus of Shogi left the studio without another word, but not before declining Futaba’s invitation of coffee and curry at LeBlanc.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So why are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>here?” Yusuke bluntly asked of their team navigator.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it wrong for me to want to visit my teammate??” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yusuke raised an incredulous brow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s suspicious for you to purposefully amble out just to see me.” He deadpans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Futaba harrumphed. “I was on my way home from Akihabara!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Makoto’s apartment is closer to the station than Kosei, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Futaba.. Did not know that, honestly. She’s not sure if any of the Thieves have actually been to the team advisor’s apartment before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whenever Haru, Makoto and I would commute home together, Haru and I would part with her at the same apartment complex each time. It stands to reason that our advisor’s home is at that exact apartment complex - which is closer to the station than Kosei High.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Point.. </span>
  <em>
    <span>But!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘But’?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I also came to invite you out for some ramen. As a favour to the team. Or they’ll fuss over your eating habits again next time we all meet up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yusuke sighed at that, conceding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The team did tend to fuss over his daily dietary intake. And the prospect of eating ramen with a friend was a pleasant thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was about to agree to the proposition when he suddenly heard the sound of a paper bag landing on the table where he worked, and the sound of boots shuffling forth closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d briefly forgotten about his little project. And Futaba seemed to have finally caught on; she was quick to enthuse over his latest creations in a medium he has very little intrinsic roots in: sculpting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait. Are these..?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Futaba gawked at the figures lined on the table before her and regarded them with the same awe and glee as she would a new gadget or game.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Each of our and our friends’ original personae.” Yusuke stated with reasonable pride tinging his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Inari, these.. They are…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sub par?” Yusuke sighed, dejected, “I understand if they do not meet your standards. They’re--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“BEAUTIFUL!” Futaba practically bellowed, enthralled by the figures before her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Inar- erm, YUSUKE! They’re absolutely perfect! Right down to the last detail!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yusuke blinked, somewhat surprised with the praise thrown at him by the same girl who saw fit to regularly refer to him as ‘Inari’.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Truly?” He wondered aloud. “I took up sculpting as an elective for the express purpose of producing them, I’ll admit. I tried to remain as faithful to their likeness as my memory would permit, to the point that I even enlisted Ryuji’s aid a few days ago; his memory is actually quite impressive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well these minis are still impressive!” Futaba enthused further. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Phantom Thieves’ navigator ran her fingers gingerly along the UFO-like form of one she once knew as ‘Necronomicon’ - the Persona she originally awakened. Its varied shades of green and glistening black were exactly like how she remembers them. Even the tentacles were fairly accurately done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thank you, Futaba.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you plan on doing with them?” She asks without looking at the young artist, choosing instead to study and soak in every detail of each of the other personae before her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Use them as models for my next project?” He replies. Then he shrugs, ambling off to his bag to retrieve his sketchbook. “Perhaps I’ll distribute them amongst our friends once I’m done. It’d be foolish to allow them to gather dust here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He proceeds to quickly draw a rough sketch of Necronomicon looming over a girl who was, in turn, looming over seven other figures.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He then places the sketchpad on the table, right beside the last persona - his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awesome idea! Do tell when that comes around; I wanna record all their reactions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Goemon looks especially radiant.” Futaba noted fondly. She’d been recollecting all the fond - and sometimes bittersweet - memories associated with each personae. Futaba felt she was lucky enough to have been recruited into the group before any of them underwent a second awakening, so she got to see all the original personae in action; she got to see Captain Kidd on his ship; she got to see Makoto ride Johanna into battle; she even got to see Carmen and her heart-headed slaves, and Zorro and Goemon’s imposing forms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My memory of him is understandably the most vivid.” Yusuke stated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They loitered for a few minutes more until Yusuke’s stomach grumbled. Loudly. Just as he was packing his things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ramen time!” Futaba declared, marching out the room with the bufudyne-wielder in tow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The statuettes would have to stay in the studio, which worried Futaba. But Yusuke assured her that no harm would come to his work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satisfied, Futaba led them onwards to Ogikubo on Ren’s recommendation and where - to her eternal surprise - Yusuke paid for both their bowls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I recently won a competition.” Yusuke simply explained. “Ren aided me when inspiration refused to grace my hands.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Futaba rolled her eyes at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’d he do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He listed names - of things, places, people - until one struck a chord. And when it did, he implored me to seize it with the same ferocity he claims I exhibit in.. our </span>
  <em>
    <span>work</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The caution Yusuke took at referring to the Metaverse piqued Futaba’s interest; there was a certain eagerness in his voice, she noted, which she could not properly pin down; he neither looked or sounded ‘weird’ at that moment, and she could hear her damn heart beat in her hears - it was deafening...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you paint?” She eventually asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, uh.. Sadly I was not able to take a proper photo of it. But I believe Ren took several photos of it out of excitement.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be sure to ask him as soon as I charge my phone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>From there their conversation slowly evolved to pondering as to why they - with the exception of their bespectacled leader and Futaba herself - possess very specific skill sets; why couldn’t one have two different types of elemental attacks? Why can’t two individuals have the same element-specific skill set? What even is Queen’s frei?!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nuclear.” Futaba decided. “That’s the closest I can think of, based on all the RPGs I’ve played; just pure power.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe our skill sets draw from our barest character.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” Futaba tilted her head at the theory. “So, Makoto’s frei..”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It speaks well of the raw power our team advisor possesses.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And Ryuji’s zio?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A fitting representation of his explosive character.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ann?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Her fire-based elemental damage is a clear analogy to her fiery personality.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ren?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“His lack of any one specialty - an allusion to his versatility as our leader.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about Haru’s psio?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She does well making good use of our foes’ underestimation of her. Psychological warfare may be her forte.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mona’s garu.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If he so wishes, he could be as inviting as a summer breeze. Or as volatile as a tempest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Geez..”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Indeed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Futaba wondered what Yusuke’s ice-based skillset implied about his character. He tended to be cold, sure, but that’s more due to his innate eccentricities. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Is water eccentric? It’s adaptable, that’s for sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“By the waaaayyyy…” Futaba drawled. The boy at least had the right to know about her earlier conversation with Hifumi Togo - wherein Futaba divulged maybe a bit too much information. “Don’t freak out but Togo-san knows the two of us are Phantom Thieves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yusuke choked on his water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wh-</span>
  <em>
    <span>what?!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chill! It’s fine, I think.. Um. She’s with Ren, isn’t she? If Ren trusts her, then we can trust her too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yusuke visibly began to regain his composure. The waiter pointedly refilled the artist’s glass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you say so.” He managed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I also hijacked Togo-san’s phone as collateral.” Futaba added a little too quickly before returning to her half-eaten bowl of ramen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yusuke could only sigh.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>[Later that night at the Sakura household]</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Futaba was lying on her bed, exhausted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After relaying a vague summary of her day to her adoptive father and faux-brother at LeBlanc, over a small plate of curry, she retreated back to the house and flopped down on her bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as she was comfortable, she pulled out her phone and quickly began texting her faux-brother </span>
  <em>
    <span>slash </span>
  </em>
  <span>leader.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Futaba : </b>
  <span>Hey. Inari said you took a pic of his latest painting.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Ren : </b>
  <span>You mean the one he entered his latest competition with?</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Futaba : </b>
  <span>Yeah. GIMME. I WANNA SEE.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Ren : </b>
  <span>Do you even know what it is..?</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Ren : </b>
  <span>The subject, I mean.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Futaba : </b>
  <span>No! That’s why I’m asking for the pic! (；･`д･´)</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Ren : </b>
  <span>Are you absolutely sure you want to see it?</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Futaba : </b>
  <span>YES. </span>
  <span>(；⌣̀_⌣́)</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Ren : </b>
  <span>Ok. But it’s your funeral.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A reply came a minute later. It was an img file.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What Futaba saw shook the foundations of her composure like a close proximity freidyne.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The painting that their team artist submitted to the competition was a portrait of her, seated proud and regal, her hair up in an elegant bun kept in place with sticks on which dangled polished jade orbs and blooming sakura, wearing an emerald green kimono lavished with subtle ‘circuit board’-like patterns of bright orange and white flowers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was breathless. A tear threatened to grace her cheeks from the corner of her eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Futaba : </b>
  <span>WHAT. THE. F--</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Ren : </b>
  <span>Told you so…</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Ren : </b>
  <span>It’s really, really well-made, if I’m being honest. The shitty pic quality isn’t doing it any justice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Back at LeBlanc, a certain bespectacled transfer student was chuckling over the chaos unfolding in the text thread.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was shortly after Futaba left that a certain student council president paid a cordial visit to LeBlanc for some coffee and curry dinner. Ren was quick to relay the hilarity that was his evening to the love of his life who was now seated at one of the stools, serving her a warm cup of Blue Mountain and a plate of curry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was going to ask if Futaba’s home yet or not.” Makoto explained. “But thank you for the recap. I can finally rest easy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shortly after </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Ren’s phone buzzed once more and he checked the new message.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Futaba : </b>
  <span>I FORGOT MY NEW GAME AT KOSEI.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Ren : </b>
  <span>Ok but did you know Yusuke could play a reaaaalllyyy sick guitar solo?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Somewhere in a house in Yongen Jaya, a certain flustered redhead plots her second infiltration of Kosei High.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
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